
PRESKNTED BY 



THE ISCARIOT 



THE ISCARIOT 



BY EDEN PHILLPOTTS 



WITH A FRONTISPIECE BY 

FRANK BRANGWYN, A.R.A. 



JOHN LANE COMPANY 
NEW YORK 

MCMXII 






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THE ISCARIOT 



(/« a great chatnber sits the Sanhedrin about Caiaphas. 
To the west, between open pillars, a setting moon shines above 
the flat roofs of Jerusalem. Daw7t has touched the east. 
Distant torch-light flashes fitfuHy and the air is tre>nulous with 
the murmur of a troubled city. Judas walks up and down 
befo7-e the priests and elders. Upon the pavett floor lie pieces 
of silver scattered, some of which are illuminated by the moon 
and shine white, while others, reflecting the radiance of swinging 
lamps, glitter as though they were made of gold.) 



GIVE heed to me, ye Guardians of the 
Law ; 
Hear one cast out, already on the brink 
Of the dark river. Now in patience learn 
The truth of this same Jesus I have sold, 
But not for thirty pieces — for a dream ! 
Aye, listen well ; my blood's a phlegethon ; 
My bosom bursts with this accursed sleight 
Played by the fiends of Tophet Gone — all 

gone ! 

I 



2 THE ISCARIOT 

Scattered and sped and vanished, like the veil 
That golden mists of morning weave and wind 
About a mountain's forehead, till the sun, 
Grown thirsty, drinks the nightly dew and 

burns 
The blessea shade away. 

Conceive my dream : 
Empire it was, and glory, and the reign 
Of Heaven unfolded here ; our citadel — 
Our holy Zion — raised to top the world ; 
The promise ratified ; the dynasty 
Of God and David's Son enthroned high 
Within Judea's sacred heart, to send 
Sweet dayspring and deliverance and joy 
Through earth's far bourne ! 

Ye priests, it was for that — 
For that I laboured and for that I lived ; 
And ere yon lesser light, now gliding down 
Upon the starry purple, shall be gone, 
I thought that grey Gethsemane must see 
Jehovah crown His Son ! For thus it 

stands 
Under the signet of the Faithful One : 



THE ISCARIOT 3 

We are the crest and corner-stone of man, 

And hold earth's everlasting destiny 

By the Eternal Will in our sole hand. 

To us the mastery of the world is given ; . 

We only, the unchanging, steadfast rock 

In this mad sea of change, endure and 

stand. 
Unbowed, unbroken, and discriminate 
Till Time is told. Our Race alone of all 
Shall ride upon the welter of the 

world — 
This seething ocean of unnumbered men 
Poured like a deluge forth from Hellas, 

Rome, 
Gaul, and Armenia, from the misty North 
And Egypt's sandy heart. The Chosen we, 
And from our sacred and predestined root 
The Son of God must bloom. If otherwise 
The Eternal breaks His Covenant with 

man — 
A blasphemy to whisper. 'Tis for Christ — 
For Christ we keep our blood a fountain 

pure ; 



4 THE ISCARIOT 

For Christ we walk unspotted as a maid 
That waits her promised spouse. 

Who better know 
Than ye, how fainting earth Messiah craves? 
Who better know the faltering, the grief. 
The dwindling hope, the ever-waxing fear ? 
Pagans are thundering at our Temple gates 
And at our hearts ; all expectation droops 
And noblest spirits sicken with the dearth 
Of these sad, twilight days. Deep from their 

tombs 
The prophets of the promises, attent. 
Still listen, sleeping not until the truth 
Whispered by God, through God shall come 

full round 
Unto fulfilment. Yet Judea's ear, 
That strains for the first trumpet from on 

high, 
Gleans nothing but the roar of Roman 

wheels 
And clang of mail, where the deep valley 

dust 
Spews forth another legion ; still her eyes- 



THE ISCARIOT 5 

Her patient eyes, uplifted to the hills — 

See nought but gathering eagles, that would 

fain 
Play vulture with her corse. 

O Palestine ! 
Thy zealous child was Judas till this morn, 
And love of thee, and hope, and utmost 

faith 
In thine eternal heritage from Heaven, 
Have slain him now. Yet can a myth so 

weigh 
That men of might are called to perish 

for it ? 
List then, how, yearning for Messiah's Hour, 
I met Him, as 1 dreamed — the Son of God — 
Moving amid His own, who knew Him not. 

1 O me came Jesus, and I marvelled much 
How a poor preacher of the hedge and 

ditch 
Should dare to challenge reason. " Friend," 

said I, 
For I had heard the seer tell his tale, 



6 THE ISCARIOT 

" Now hail thee, ' King of Beggars,' not of 

men ! 
Go, stir the antres of the wilderness 
For starving, wolfish things that cry to 

herd 
And hunt their betters ; promise ample prey 
To vermin and the pariahs of earth — 
The living dust that rises in a storm 
To choke clean throats and nostrils. Foolish 

man ! 
Equality thou preachest in God's Name, 
Who made all things unequal ; thou wouldst 

set 
That futile, deadly lance in every hand — 
To wound itself withal. And what of these ? 
Dost think this foetid rout of draggle-tails 
And dropsies and lopped limbs and palsied 

legs 
Doth march to take a kingdom ? 

" True, thou say'st 
Thy kingdom is not founded upon earth. 
Then shall this cankered trash ascend to 

Heaven, 



THE ISCARIOT 7 

Where kings do service and the prophets 

kneel 
Before the Throne of God ? What pledge 

hast thou, 
Wild shepherd of the goats, that shall 

affirm 
Thy fold's security? The robber folk — 
Those nomad leaders, who draw men away. 
And sharpen secret swords on desert stones 
To carve up our tame cities presently — 
Their purpose one doth comprehend, but 

thine ? 

What head shalt thou make ? Who shall fear 

thine hordes ? 
What sure salvation may this crippled band 
Of all incompetencies win from thee? 
Lead them direct, if thou wouldst be their 

friend, 
Down to the silent sanctuaries of death, 
Where none shall suffer at them. It is 

there 
Their heritage doth lie. In mercy point 
The shortest road and bid them follow it. 



8 THE ISCARIOT 

That earth may sweeter be by their surcease. 
Their malady is weakness — a supreme 
And potent poison in the world's affairs, 
That, like some foul but ever-flowing tide. 
Creeps up the rock of power and lifts and 

lifts 
To drown the lonely strong. This rodent 

plague 
Judea frets, and now, most sorely struck 
By the fierce hectic of that fever fell, 
She faints beneath the mastership of Rome. 
Ye teach the weak to hate and not to trust ; 
Ye cry that strength is sin and might a 

vice 
In sight of the Almighty ! Erring friend. 
If weakness be the highest good on earth. 
Then let the highest weakness rule the earth, 
And yonder crooked fragment of a man. 
Half eaten by the leprosy, that drags 
His trunk with handless arms along the 

dust, 
Be lifted to the throne, or take the field 
Against our myriad foes ! " 



THE ISCARIOT 9 

But Jesus bore 
With all the withering scorn I poured about 
His ragged faction. Gently thus he spake : 
" Upon the weakest link depends the chain 
That draws to Heaven. All mankind in 

truth 
May win thereto, but yet is it decreed 
That these sore-stricken, wounded companies 
Of unloved and unprofitable people 
Inherit first ; for if they be not heirs 
Of their Eternal Father's home, then none 
Is heir and He shall all forget. But know 
The Everlasting One appraiseth not 
Man at man's value. On a golden scale 
God measures, and the weight thereof is 

love. 
Oh ! subtle, subtle is the love of God — 
A fire that eats the green and spares the 

dry; 
A wind that blows away the heavy grain 
From earthly threshing-floors, and leaves the 

chaff 
For heavenly garners. 'Tis a force beyond 



lo THE ISCARIOT 

All wit of man to mete, or dimly know, 

Or watch i' the working ; therefore be assured 

That many a mighty one ye hold and 

hug 
And deem august and call the salt of earth, 
Shall prove but dust of Heaven — less, far 

less 
Than these poor, hunger-bitten, frantic things. 
Led by the first faint hope their souls have 

known, 
That crawl to make my pomp." Further he 

spake — 
Ye know the matter of his charge and plea, 
Since often, in your darkness, ye have cursed 
To mark the message echoed high and low. 
But me he tented deep : his rede was new. 
Yet pregnant, and it touched me to the 

quick 
Of my soul's life ; for long had I believed 
That good and evil in the ways of man 
Were ravelled up and knotted and entwined 
Beyond all resolution ; sure was I 
That in the alembic of the human heart 



THE ISCARIOT ii 

Old rights and wrongs were melted into 

one ; 
That evil leavened good, that good itself, 
Since the Mosaic legacy was spent, 
Had grown of grim complexion ; and 1 saw 
How values after measurement of man 
Were vain and void. 

He said that he was God, 
And reason fell upon its knees to hear. 
For he believed himself! There was in 

him 
Living assurance and the power to win 
A cold and doubting spirit with a phrase. 
He said that he was God, and I believed. 
Wrested thereto by shock of wakened love 
And pride in friendship ; for until he came 
Before the portals of this lonely heart 
And sought to enter, all my life austere 
Had driven men away, where beacons burned 
That promised warmer welcome. Thus it 

fell 
That I accepted from my pent-up heart 
Fully and perfectly with hungry joy ; ^ 



12 THE ISCARIOT 

For when such secret souls as mine once 

love, 
The torrent bursts all bounds and pours 

itself 
In a raging flood. And as I haunted him, 
To hear the evangel, luminous and pure, 
Of his most glorious hope, I felt in truth 
The Ancient of the Ages had sent forth 
His very Son to earth, and willed that He 
Should walk unseen till now. For this man 

lived 
With such a life as never had I seen 
In all the paths of men ; a bloom of being 
Shone like the Springtime from his radiant 

soul. 
He gave his life as others fling away 
Their riches — gave and gave and gave again. 
Like the sweet music of the psaltery, 
That wearies never while the fingers pluck, 
Even so he, while men had ears to hear. 
Sang a new music to humanity. 
He held a light ; he spake a wondrous 

v^ord, 



THE ISCARIOT 13 

And Mercy was its name : gentle indeed, 

Yet terrible. A boon and benison 

To all forgotten, fruitless, weary souls 

And the sad staple of our human kind ; 

A death eternal to the order old. 

That sank within the still and marble past 

Entombed by him. 

' The poor in spirit blessed ! ' 
Lo, what a challenge, what an anthem 

new, 
Dropped like a singing star from highest 

Heaven, 
Was there of revolution ! So he came. 
From David's seed to make the peace with 

God: 
Rainbow of Promise on the thunder-cloud 
Of our primordial fall and dreadful fate — 
The Christ indeed ! 

" Oh, let one joyful shout- 
From all the wide-winged seraphim in 

Heaven, 
Proclaim Thee now the Master of this 

world ! " 



14 THE ISCARIOT 

Thus cried my awakened soul — I gave up all 
And followed him, and left him nevermore. 
My hard-won learning into night I cast 
Before this dawn of everlasting truth, 
Emptied my brain and scoured away my lore. 
As I had cleansed a vessel that was foul ; 
I scorned my body, elbowed the unclean. 
Suffered the heat and hunger, shared my 

goods. 
And held our pitiful purse ; all I forgot 
And put behind me, since it was his will. 
Thus sacrificing reason to the faith 
That he was come to feed the starving earth. 

Above all else that drew me to him first 
There rang a mighty manifest of truth : 
That Heaven's whole kingdom lay within the 

heart ! 
As corn doth wait the coming of the rain 
To spread a vernal veil upon the earth, 
Even so rich and heavenly a harvest-field 
Each man may make of his poor, barren 

self, 



THE ISCARIOT 15 

Given the grain from God ! For that alone — 
That echo of a golden verity 
Reverberating to despondent souls — 
I would have followed Jesus. 

Close I kept, 
But not submerged within the gathering host 
That moved about his way. Far otherwise — 
'Twas my swift ear that ever truliest heard ; 
'Twas I that of the twelve — his chosen 

ones — 
Grew drunk upon the cup he offered us. 
To no high issues were the rest ordained ; 
The draught he daily poured fired not at all 
Their simple minds: as dew-drop from the 

reed, 
His secret 'scaped them. Like a flock of 

sheep 
They grazed along behind the shepherd's 

heels, 
Content to follow where he chose to go, 
To ask for nothing but their daily meed. 
And bleat a little when the way was 

steep. 



i6 THE ISCARIOT 

But, through the chambers of my swifter 

brain, 
The force ineffable and secret fire 
Of all he taught us leapt and burned apace. 
In frenzy of anticipation fierce 
I saw the promised conquest of this 

world, 
That first should come ; I ate my spirit out, 
While still he tarried, caring not that time 
Sped on, and that Judea's lowly couch 
Was wet with tears. 

Then, what he would not tell, 
I strove to win by ambushes of words 
And questions deeply masked. Through starry 

nights. 
When far afield amid the desert wilds, 
Or by the margin of the inland sea, 
Way-worn and weary, he would lay him 

down 
To sleep on any pillow with the twelve, 
I pressed him close, revealed my loftier 

thoughts 
And wider sympathies. I showed to him 



THE ISCARIOT 17 

How far unlike the fishermen was I ; 

How swift of mind and subtle ; how I saw, 

Out of the human love I bore to him, 

The goal whereto he travelled, and the 

way ! 
I spoke of mighty dead who knew not 

God, 
Yet whom God knew, and breathed upon and 

showed 
The fore-glow whose true dawn would blaze 

anon 
To light His Chosen. Yea, I told the tale 
Of Athens and the wondrous sons she bare 
To the true God, while yet unnumbered false 
Tore at the people's hearts with human 

hands. 
For human were they — men and women all — 
Wrought by the seers of that olden time 
To be a boon for them who cried for 

gods. 
Living and breathing visions from the void. 
They came in sunny splendour to the folk, 
And all the people lived beside their gods 

3 



1 8 THE ISCARIOT 

As learned magi and the sages live 
Beside their symbols. But mock deities 
Possess no power to make their servants 

men, 
Such as are we ; though cunning artists came, 
Juggled with marble, ivory, and gold, 
And raised a very galaxy of gods 
On high for devilish idolatry 
Within a thousand temples. Now the doom 
Of the one God we worship falls, and 

night 
Eternal soon shall gulf that lingering brood 
Of gods inferior to Fate — poor ghosts — 
Less than their Themis — Jove's assessor dire. 
Anon, I named in his unlisting ear 
That master-spirit — he who steadfast shone 
Like a sure pharos on the broken waves 
And ebb and flow of thought ; to show the 

rocks 
That filled those stormy channels, ere our 

God 
The charted way for evermore revealed. 
But nought he cared for Socrates, until 



THE ISCARIOT 19 

I named the hemlock cup, and then, indeed, 
All vague and drowsy at the brink of 

sleep, 
Declared that earth must ever stone and 

slay 
Her prophets. So he fell on slumber deep, 
As one, who having poured his life all day 
For others' need, must seek the founts of 

rest 
And deeply draw against to-morrow's toll. 
But I slept not : my mind, on pinions swift 
Won from his word, now traversed life and 

time ; 
Dwelt with the rising and the setting stars ; 
Leapt the black hills with day to ravish 

night ; 
Brooded upon our destiny, and strove 
How to unwind the purpose of the present 
With all its sordid ugliness and want. 
Whence this sad waste, these temporal 

miseries 
Of meagre food, cold welcome, chill response 
Unto the tidings ? Wherefore did he choose 



20 THE ISCARIOT 

So arid, profitless, and thorny a path 

To David's empty throne? And for how 

long 
Would he remain content to wear the dress 
Of muddy man, while from his eyes there 

glowed 
The fire divine? Now in a gentle beam 
Of most benignant light 'twas wont to 

shine ; 
Now, like the awful, azure tongue of levin 
From heart of storm, it flashed the ire of 

God ; 
And whether 'twas a smile he downward 

cast. 
Gentle and lambent on the little ones 
Who struggled to be throned upon his knee, 
Or 'gainst yourselves a knotted brow he 

bent 
To shrivel up your broad phylacteries — 
Whether in joy or sorrow, peace or pain, 
Those eyes declared him, born out of the 

blue 
Of sea and sky and mountain-purple dim 



THE ISCARIOT 21 

All men have seen, none trodden. There I 

drank, 
And something of the deeper mystery won 
That he denied his lips. 

Nay, move ye not ! 
Harken, ye frozen ones, some season yet 
To this confusion of a frustrate soul. 
He said that he was God, and I believed. 
And cast about to help the world believe.j 

JTIAVE ye not seen at Sidon, when a ship, 
New launched upon the haven's peace, doth 

put 
To sea, how first the aid of little boats 
The virgin vessel craves ? Such lesser craft 
Bring forth the argosy when she doth bid 
Farewell to earth. It is their humble part 
To draw her stately from the circling arms 
Of the land-mother, where her shape was 

built- 
in the far forest first, and then by man 
Beside her future home and destiny. 
So slowly forth she comes unto the sea. 



22 THE ISCARIOT 

To feel the wind upon her sails' deep bosom 
And the wide wave, that laughs and shows 

its teeth 
Smote by her virgin stem. And thus her 

course 
She takes and weds the fickle main, nor 

knows 
How long his love will last. In maiden 

trust 
She bows to the great deep and yields herself 
Into his keeping, with companionship 
Of willing winds and waves and leaping 

foam. 
Music dotli mark her going, where the ropes 
Sing to the harper with the unseen hand ; 
A sudden splendour of pure golden light 
Burns on her opening wings, and from the 

sun 
To the least human eye upon the shore. 
All mark her hopeful course and joyful 

might, 
Taking good heart and happiness to see 
The pride of Sidon sweep upon her way. 



THE ISCARIOT 23 

The little ships creep back. They are forgot ; 
Yet to good purpose have they played their part, 
And justified themselves. Consider then 
That even such a little ship was I — 
Judas, that speak to ye. 

Now grew a hope, 
A hope that swelled into a fierce resolve, 
To draw my master from this coward peace 
And launch him swift on his immortal 

voyage. 
Oh ! see ye not, even ye who hated him, 
His majesty of purpose ? ' Granted all 
Was but a gorgeous dream, by dreams men 

guess 
At the heart of the dreamer ; for your 

slumbering mind, 
Albeit free from earth's material grip 
And desolating fetters of the real. 
Still bears the sleepers' stamp. No evil man 
Hath noble visions, and no lofty soul, 
Though it be foundered in the fens of sleep. 
Is moved to dream of baseness.^ Bear in 

mind 



24 THE ISCARIOT 

He is a Galilean — men who dream 
By nature, and their visions oft translate 
Into the stuff of warlike, waking life. 
His heart to yours is as the living bud 
To the dead leaf beside it on the bough. 
Remember, priests, that he believed himself — 
Yea, he believed himself; and was it strange 
That, seeing men and what men seek and 

shun, 
And measuring the gulf that yawned betwixt 
His own sad soul and theirs, this Nazarene 
Should dream a fiery breath of very God 
Had burned into his bosom? Was it strange? 
Then read the world's innumerable hearts — 
Yea, read your own, and match me if you 

can 
A heart like his — this lonely man of men ! 
I ever knew him best ; 'twas I that saw 
The truth eternal gleam like gem in jewel 
When he but talked to children : I perceived 
The deepening mystery and waxing wonder 
As swift, from strength to strength, he upward 
soared, 



THE ISCARIOT 25 

Upon the wings of his great spirit borne, 
While weak and weaker grew his earthly 

frame. 
I knew the never-sleeping voice he heard 
That called to battle, and I shook to know 
More than the master's self could guess or 

see ; 
For here all human hope of Heaven, housed 
Within a habitation perilous. 
And man's salvation, now within man's sight, 
Threatened through man's own frailty to fail ! 
Measure ye that ? Full sure the tortuous 

ways 
Of dialectic deep that ye pursue. 
Should train your minds to this same 

subtlety 
That made me fear. I thought he was a 

lamp — 
A lamp incarnate, dazzled by the glare 
Of his own awful radiance and the blaze 
Of the supernal Godhead, Who had willed 
Descend upon this humble one ; I feared 
A load, too weighty for the Anakim, 

4 



26 THE ISCARIOT 

Began to kill my Jesus. His poor flesh 
Sank underneath the strain ; he fainted oft 
And suffered through long secrecies ; he 

wept ; 
He groaned in spirit with his Father hid ; 
Battled through many a midnight hour with 

Fear, 
And gazed in terror at the front of Fate. 
He moved as one who shudders for his 

thought, 
And cannot banish from his fearful eyes 
The haunting shadow that will peep and 

peer. 
Stumbling in our mortality, too weak 
To tear it from him ; shrinking, flinching 

yet 
From all the majesty and magnitude 
Of the high task, that echoed to his soul 
From the far corridors of earliest time. 
When Adam fell, he went his doubtful way. 
Still, still the master spake with Heaven's 

voice. 
But was content to speak ; to act delayed. 



THE ISCARIOT 27 

And this I marked and girt my huge resolve 
To make him act and sweep him surely on 
To his epiphany. 

With zeal at heat, 
Undaunted courage, and the purest faith 
That ever burned — an incense unto God ; 
Fired for my failing country ; torn with lust 
To do my Father's will, I strove to find 
Whether I might in all humility 
Essay the help that to his fellow-man 
Man giveth. Seeing, then, that Jesus knew 
Our common suffering and sadly bent 
Beneath the stern and universal yoke, 
I spake to him and bade him doff his 

flesh, 
As one doth doff a garment before toil. 
" Jesus of Nazareth, Thou Prince of Light, 
Leave prayers and fasting unto sons of men. 
Who know but how to pray and how to 

fast : 
Thou art the Son of God ! Thy Father now 
Bends His omnipotent and questioning eyes 



28 THE ISCARIOT 

From the lone height of Heaven to seek His 

Son. 
He searcheth not beside the dusty knoll, 
Nor scorched highway, nor shadow of the 

stone. 
Nor temple of red, jackal-haunted rocks 
Upon the desert sand. Not on the wave 
When fishers draw their nets through Galilee, 
Nor mid the shards and skeletons that 

show 
Where cities stood to crown the vanished 

past, 
His First Begotten shall the Godhead find ; 
Not synagogues reward the Almighty's search. 
Nor yet the Temple, where keen, vulpine 

eyes 
Of them that hate Thee flash, and where the 

ears 
Are pricked that would confound Thee in 

Thy speech. 
A sword, my Master, Thou hast come to 

draw ; 
Then bare it, and along that awful blade 



THE ISCARIOT 29 

Bring down the thunderbolt upon Thy foes 

And liberate the people of our God. 

Loose them and lift them up. Let them 

arise 
Out of the dust rejoicing and be whole — 
A nation worth Thy kingship — yea, a race 
Whose humblest ones are fit to fill the 

thrones 
Of lesser kingdoms. O Thou Son of 

Heaven, 
To rule and reign Thou com'st ! Thy Godly 

part 
Is not to creep with mean humility 
Among the weary-footed. Thou dost bring 
Salvation to the stricken sons of Time, 
For all are lost without Thee. Hearken then ! 
Messiah is Messiah — He redeems 
The suffering of all the suffering earth ; 
But, Jesus, Thou dost suffer with the rest ! 
A suffering Messiah ! 'Tis a wrong. 
And bitter slight to Heaven. Angels weep 
At Thine unseemly torments, for they know 
The Saviour comes to save and not to suffer. 



30 THE ISCARIOT 

Out of the night the enemy doth roar 
And hem the darkness in with flaming orbs, 
While Palestine, poor scape-goat of the world, 
Bleats for the trusted shepherd that she loved. 
And marvels that he hath deserted her. 
From out their shattered and forgotten graves 
The saints and prophets lift a knell to 

Thee ; 
And on the wide-wayed paths and plains of 

Heaven 
Thine hosts await one archangelic word. 
To loose the hurricane of a million wings, 
If Thou but lift Thine eyes — those haunted 

eyes 
That seek the sky no more, but home in 

dust ; 
While on this hunger-starved and panting earth, 
The spirit of Judea, smouldering still 
In many a fruitful, patient one, shall leap 
Like fire to fire and lift an answering 

flame, 
And light the everlasting legions here 
To David's City. 



THE ISCARIOT 3t 

" Jesus, Son of God, 
All things in Heaven and earth and under 

earth — 
The beings that we men have never seen. 
Who toil beyond our friendship in the 

womb 
Of this great world ; and they, the winged 

ones. 
Who haunt the air, yet make their presence 

known 
On hurtling wings that whistle in the 

night ; 
Monsters and demi-gorgons and the giants ; 
And those 'twixt man and angel God hath 

made 
For His own purposes to move and live 
Secluded from our sense — all, all cry out 
In muffled thunder through the universe, 
And lift their supplication at this hour 
To draw Thee to Thy throne ! " 

Even thus I spake ; 
Even thus I prayed with supplicating hands 
And voice of inspiration. He heard all, 



32 THE ISCARIOT 

But answered with the lash of cold rebuke, 
And bade me hide myself, nor meet his 

gaze 
Until my knees were weary of the earth. 
Doth fealty, then, demand unthinking suit 
Such as our dogs have power to render us ? 
I thought not so, and smarted when he 

chode, 
Setting his wrath to human frailty. 
That kindled into anger at the truth 
Upon my tongue. Yet me he did not daunt : 
I yielded not, nor mourned my earnest words, 
Since they were winged with love of God and 

Man, 
But felt the more affirmed to urge him on 
And onward. Yea, I studied deeper yet 
How best to point the road that he must 

go. 
Since, man to man, I stronger felt than he 
And mightier to hold the Light aloft, 
Had I been chosen for the cresset-head. 
Then, after prayer and fast and lonely hours. 
As deep and secret as the master's own, 



THE ISCARIOT 33 

There flashed upon my hardy soul from 

God— 
From God I fondly dreamed — the dreadful 

deed 
That doth confound me now. 

JiLvEN thus I wrought -. 
When round the Passover had come again 
And to Jerusalem he set his face, 
I learned your conclave sat in secrecy 
And pondered still how best to overthrow 
The man the people loved. Then hastened I 
From Bethany and, with a stroke of guile 
Deeper than yours, declared how I might 

give 
Jesus into your hands at dead of night. 
When all the city slept. I feigned to sell 
The man I thought was God ; and glad were 

ye, 

Haggling like hucksters in the mart of flesh. 
To buy a prophet's blood for yonder trash 
That blights the mottled marble of the floor. 
Then there awoke the spirit we call Chance, 



34 THE ISCARIOT 

To fool and fortify me at a breath ; 

For clear unto my busy brain it seemed 

That Jesus knew full well the thing I did, 

And when this night in upper room we sat 

At meat together, twice he smiled on me, 

And I discerned approval in his eyes. 

" Do quickly what thou doest." Thus he 

spake ; 
And I went forth into the deep blue night, 
Kre yet the wonder of the lesser stars 
Was dimmed before the moon. In hungry 

joy 

I ran to help the Son of God ; I came 

And planned with ye to lead your servants 

forth 
Through the still olive gardens of that glade 
Where best he loved to pray. 

It was ordained 
Where 1 should meet your people, where the 

rout 
And soldiers and centurion should bide 
To wait me. Then with soul translated high, 
Ecstatic, fleet of foot, along I went 



THE ISCARIOT 35 

Through moonh't paths of the night-hidden 

Mount, 
That I might see if all were well with him. 
Because he knew, indeed, that this still hour 
Was great with his great destiny ; he knew 
The orb and sceptre of all earth were set 
Unto his blessed hand. Thus ran my thought, 
And, hid behind an ancient bole, I saw, 
In battle with the ever-living God, 
My master all alone. 

How small he looked — 
How small and shrunk and desolate ! The 

sight 
My own high spirit quenched and chilled my 

heart. 

1 HOU knowest, O priests, how all our 

rolling hills 
Are clothed in misty green and flashing fires 
That twinkle when the winds but touch the 

woods. 
Where in her lesrions doth the olive stand. 
There is a glittering of silver light 



36 THE ISCARIOT 

Within them, and wine-purple shadows rove 
Upon their billowing breasts. They are the 

garb 
And deathless vesture of our aged hills ; 
They robe each undulation, knap, and knoll ; 
And oft their name upon the sacred page 
Of God's own message lies. In Spring they 

scent 
The air with myriad blossoms, and the joy 
Of all their new-born leaves doth roll along — 
A cloud of radiant silver o'er the Mount. 
And later, ere the precious seed-time comes, 
And harvest-fields grow white, and skin of 

grape 
Thins underneath the lustre of the bloom. 
Their berries turn to ripeness, till each tree 
Doth show her diadem of starry leaves 
All gemmed with purple. And our God hath 

said 
That we shall strike them not a second time 
And clamber not again amid the boughs. 
To shower their treasure on the sheet out- 
spread, 



THE ISCARIOT 37 

But leave good measure of His gracious gift 
For fatherless and widows, and for them 
Who seek as strangers for our comforting. 
A symbol thus of charity she stands ; 
And so did Jesus seek her, for he read 
Pure love into her loveliness ; he found 
That fragrant peace and silence made their 

homes 
Amid her secret places. Them he sought ; 
And now I watched, the while he sought in 

vain. 
I 'Tis an abode of eld, where Time's own self 
May be surprised asleep, and primal things 
Brood near, unseen but felt ; the mystery 
Of peace stupendous, of a peace beyond 
The gentlest whisper of a tongue to tell 
Doth shroud this place ; and here, upon the 

earth. 
He knelt in torment. Round about his feet 
The blood-red wind-flowers blew, their colour 

sucked 
Away by the white moon, and through the 

bough 



38 THE ISCARIOT 

Low stars flashed largely from a fret of 

leaves 
Where dim, innumerable olives dreamed 
Like smoke of myrrh and storax. 

Hast thou heard 
Old olive trees that murmur in the night? 
Dost know the bated hush they keep? Hast 

seen 
The moon cast down at foot of every tree 
A shadow, like an ebon garment dropped 
From each time-foundered trunk ? All stunted, 

gnarled, 
They huddled round about him where he 

knelt, 
And made a cincture of their aged limbs 
Above his secret agonies, as though 
The venerable, grey ambassadors 
Were pilgrims from another world than ours. 
Where trees are conscious creatures. Ears 

had they 
And eyes: they heard and saw. In dismal 

trance 
Above his dolour, all the ambient air 



THE ISCARIOT 39 

Was sunk and held its sorrowful breath 

awhile, 
Afraid to whisper. Interlacing boughs 
By chance upon his lonely place of prayer 
The shadow of a Roman cross threw down 
Along the dew-white grasses ; and he saw 
And swiftly marked the filthy symbol flung 
Into that anguished hour. The moon shone 

full 
Upon his harrowed forehead, and I stared 
To see his years had doubled in an 

hour. 
His burning, tearless eyes were lifted up 
To mirror all the woe of all the world, 
And blazing agony burned on his brow 
Like a red flame ; he writhed and flung hiin 

down 
With face against the earth ; and his dire 

load 
Of torn and tortured clay upon this rack 
Seemed like to perish ere he cast it off. 
He fought, the soul embattled 'gainst the 

flesh: 



40 THE ISCARIOT 

And still most steadfastly I watched with 

faith, 
Believing in my heart that he was God. 
Yet did I weep, for well I loved the man 
And would have succoured him in that dark 

hour. 
But that I knew the battle now he waged 
Might not be shared. I mourned his awful 

grief; 
And then to joy arose, and scarce could 

hide 
For longing to give praise. I watched and 

saw 
The Godhead conquer ! After bitter stress 
He lifted up his head, destroyed the peace, 
And thrilled the listening forest with a 

prayer. 
Aloud he wailed, and through the nightly 

aisles 
Of all that sylvan gloom his piteous voice 
Like a lost spirit thrid. And thus he 

cried : 
" Father ! if it be possible, this cup 



THE ISCARIOT 41 

Remove from me." Whereon the silence ~I 

crept 

Close, like a presence ; for not only he 

But all earth listened, and that planet old 

We call the moon, while in the upper air 

Of widest welkin, not a single star 

But ceased its throb to hear the Father's 

voice 

Ring through high Heaven. j 

Now his haunted eyes 

My master closed and waited patiently 

If peradventure should an angel fly 

With answer to his prayer. But all was still. 

And since none came, a deep and doleful 

breath 

Shook him where still he knelt — a racking 

sigh 

That menaced his worn life and weary heart. 

Again he spake, and in a voice resigned 

Yielded his manhood and assumed the God. 

" Not as I will, my Father, but as Thou 

Shalt will, so be it ! " Then I knelt me 

down 
6 



42 THE ISCARIOT 

Even as Jesus rose, all imminent, 

And shone and towered above himself, as 

though 
Some cloud celestial he had been, that crowns 
The heights of earth and lifts, itself a world, 
To take the glory of the noonday sun 
Upon its many mounting crests and domes, 
And golden gleaming pinnacles. So he 
Now stood transfigured, mighty, motionless. 
His eyes uplifted upon Heaven's gate 
To see the portals swing ! And to my sense. 
Enthralled by this full moment, now it 

seemed 
The entranced night awakened at his word 
And burst its long suspension — budded, 

bloomed 
In scent and song and joyful murmurings 
Through every dusky dene and solemn depth 
Of all those woodland ways. For nigh at 

hand. 
Within a*^ myrtle thicket^ by the path 
That hither led, where the sweet mastic grows 
And fragrant, hoary herbs defy the sun. 



THE ISCARIOT 43 

The liquid music of a little bird 
Now sudden tinkled forth melodiously. 
^ A hidden bul-bul had begun to sing 
In dreams upon his perch, then waked himself 
And poured from out that dewy dingle dark 
A hymn of praise ; so that the bird and I 
Were first of the world's creatures to proclaim 
The Son of God. Then round about there 

sprang 
Great candid lilies from adoring earth, 
That lifted all their silver censers sweet 
About his dusty knees. Aloft there hung, 
In ordered legions round the pascal moon, 
A gathering fret and panoply of clouds, 
That from their woven woof and web of pearl 
About the orb, in one translucent cirque, 
Cast a dim rainbow. Then they broke and 

massed 
Until the sky, to my transported sense, 
Began to be alive with rushing wings 
And swift, star-pointed lances. Knowing then 
The time was come, I tore me from my 

place, 



44 THE ISCARIOT 

To speed where the impatient torches flashed 
And men cried out for Judas. 

l_yIKE a snake, 
With rufous scales and smoking breath, we crept 
Winding along the Mount. The patient trees 
Took on our sanguine livery one by one ; 
The owlet fled into the virgin dark 
Before our riot. Scattered we the dew 
From off" the grasses, bruised the sleeping 

flowers. 
And frighted things unseen in holt and den ; 
We threaded still Gethsemane with fire 
And stench and sooty smoke, that rolled aloft 
Above the mail-clad men, till all the earth 
Was fouled and violated ere we came 
To his inviolate place. But I before 
The mob so swiftly flew, they bade me stay, 
Nor overrun their rabble. On we fared 
Until we came where Jesus waited us, 
Surrounded by those others who had slept 
The while he suffered. Him I straightway 

kissed 



THE ISCARIOT 45 

And dreamed I signalled God ! Ye know the 

rest. 
No Father smiled on that deserted son ; 
No fiery-footed cherubim swept down 
To smite his foes ; no peal celestial shook 
The grave of night to set the dayspring free ; 
No heavenly beam, from that high place 

above 
The sun, shone out to dazzle earth. Instead 
A lonely, broken, and deserted man 
They haled among them to the judgment- 
seat. 



r RIESTS, I have sinned a thousand ways in 
this. 
Most precious, innocent blood is ceded up — 
Most precious and most innocent and pure. 
A spirit of unbounded worth is he 
And high benignant purpose : not our God, 
But ranged along with God, and yearning deep 
To soothe the earth's wide, mordant miseries 



46 THE ISCARIOT 

So far as one man may. And if he go 
To the Roman beam, then it is I alone 
That murder him and slay my only friend. 
Oh, suffer no such everlasting curse 
To fasten on my soul ! Be patient, Scribes, 
For if this man is mad, then by how much 
More mad am I, who dared to think myself 
Subtler than God ? Here standeth one who 

toiled 
To guide the Everlasting and direct 
His proper path ! What man run lunatic 
Dreamed folly fearfuller ? 

' Know ye remorse ? 
Ye cannot, for this Jesus ye would slay 
Was first to find it. His concept of sin, 
So dreadful, new, and pregnant, gave it birth ; 
Out of his lofty soul the demon came — 
A foul thing from a fair ; a pestilence ; 
An evil exhalation given forth 
By corpse of perished deed ; a death in life ; 
A doom, a mortal poison that doth clog 
The very springs of action. From the past — 
The all-accomplished past — it crawleth back 



THE ISCARIOT 47 

To rend the living present from our hands ; 
It leapeth down upon the hehiisman, Hope, 
Who steers each labouring barque of human 

life, 
And fastens on him, tiger-wise and fanged, 
Until the tiller's free, the vessel wrecked. 
It gnaws the lust of living from the heart. 
Endeavour slays, emasculates the will ; 
It broods and breeds and festers, till that 

man. 
Noble of heart enough to feel its power, 
Carries a hideous load of gangrened soul 
While yet his flesh is firm ; and thus he 

moves 
Amid the pinnacles of agony 
That only spirits know, and shrieks aloud 
His sleepless sin. Have I not often seen 
Its ravages within those trusting hearts 
That went along with him ? Aye, that I have, 
And marvelled how he held the dreadful 

power 
With gentlest words to kill a bounding hope, 
Or bring a hale and happy human soul, 



48 THE ISCA.RIOT 

All joy, with life on tiptoe, down to this 
Infernal depth and fling it suddenly- 
Writhing and maimed upon the shards of sin, 
Like a cut worm. And here stand I 

destroyed 
By this unspeakable and deadly bane ; 
For though my purpose aimed as high as 

Heaven, 
Its overthrow now flings me to the deep, 
With those accursed who betray their trust 
And earn remorse : Hell's masterpiece. My 

heart 
Doth hold Gehenna — length and breadth and 

verge ; 
Its least and mightiest torments hide within 
This single bosom, where but yesternight 
I Homed all the bliss of Heaven ; and I 

stand 
Suppliant for death — the death ye measure 

him. 
Tormented am I to the raging core 
Of my dark soul — all dazed and terrified, 
Like to an over-driven beast, that glares 



THE ISCARIOT 49 

And foams with thirst and pleads wild-eyed 

for peace. 
I loved him, loved him with most passionate 

love ; 
And that same love, now fallen on such bale, 
By the Almighty's dread decree, doth bring 
My toll of days in helpless, hopeless gloom 
To death inexorable. 

Dead indeed 
Unto this world am I — wakened from dreams 
Of Zion's far-flung glory to a morn 
Most desolately dark. My country's good, 
Her welfare and her triumph ultimate 
Still lie within Jehovah's council hid. 
'Tis not for me : 'tis never now for me 
To run beside the chariot-wheel of God — 
And that's a grief to slay a heart like 

mine, 
Fed on the manna of the promises 
He breathed ; but worse is here of agony. 
Most personal, particular, and close. 
I loved the man, I say, and still love on, 
Albeit the God was but a god-like dream. 

7 



50 THE ISCARIOT 

And what remains ? The man that dreamed 

so well 
Lies in your power, a jest for Roman slaves, 
Who spit upon him by the guard-room fire. 
Fling purple on his shoulders, thrust a reed 
Within his patient hand and bid him tell 
Their cursed names that smote him. His 

great soul 
Ye cannot mar, but mine ye must pollute 
Beyond all strength but the Eternal's own 
To cleanse, if ye shall crucify that man. 
O Caiaphas, doth yet thy breast-plate hide 
A heart beneath its twelve-fold splendour 

bright ? 
Then strive to feel therein what now I 

feel, 
And pity me in truth by pitying him, 
( Who at the Everlasting's whisper dark. 
And secret will, by us not understood, 
Was driven to declare himself Messiah. 
jls that which we call madness also sin ? 
Then half the world we pity, we should 

damn. 



THE ISCARIOT 51 

The mad are God's own mouthpiece ; wouldst 

thou dare 
Thus to destroy the chosen of the Lord ? 
What sin dost find in him ? His gentle wits 
Run over into this, and who is hurt? 
Granted his word was vain ; yet all his acts 
Who live, that love their neighbour as 

themselves, 
Can less than praise and honour ? He but 

taught 
That God is love ; then let that love of 

loves 
Cast out the fear for evermore ye preach ; 
Oh ! let him mercy have, who mercy brought — 
A gift from Heaven to the merciless. 
Are ye akin to that unthinking herd 
Who will cry " Crucify ! " when day is come, 
Because their promised God is but a man ? 
Do ye, too, seek to feed your priestly hate 
On innocence? Nay, take the guilty one 
Who well hath earned the worst that ye can 

do. 
'Tis I that should be crucified ; 'tis I 



52 THE ISCARIOT 

That planned and plotted to confound your 

craft 
And cast you down to night ; 'tis I that 

strove, 
With all my passionate, unsleeping strength, 
Upon your ruined synagogues to found 
A Temple where no priests shall minister 
Or cast their shadows between God and man ! 
Take me and let him go. What sin is his? 
What table hath he spread for hungry men 
Ye could not sup at ? Search the Thora 

through. 
Ye shall not find a law to slay this man ; 
And that done, seek again within yourselves, 
Where sit the heavenly arbiters, and hear 
What saith the still small voice that, like a 

bell, 
Strikes in the holy places of man's heart. 
'Twill bid you pardon him and let him go 
In peace away. 

Oh ! ye that hold the power, 
Wield it but gently o'er this innocent head, 
Whose only thought was rescue of mankind. 



THE ISCARIOT 53 

The man is young ; his universal love 
Hath burnt him up. Enthusiasm deep, 
With a fierce aura of divine desire, 
Doth quite consume him, even while he 

strives 
By its celestial light to find his way, 
And still existeth, sick almost to death. 
Then let him pass in peace, where he hath 

fought 
And loved and striven, flinging forth his days 
Like rainbows through the gloom of Palestine, 
Till all are spent. Leave ye the man to God, 
And suffer me to die for him. 

Your heads 
Ye shake against me. Ye resign and doom 
This sad, unspotted fool of highest Heaven 
To Golgotha ? Then heed a dying tongue 
That tolls on life's last threshold and shall 

sound 
Never again for shadow-casting men. 
May every piece of that foul silver there 
Sparkling, as Satan's eyes beneath the Tree 
Of Knowledge in the garden — may each one, 



54 THE ISCARIOT 

All wet with Jesus' blood, go breed in hell 

As money never bred on earth. May each 

Beget a million dagger-pointed flames 

To scorch and blister in your deathless flesh ; 

May all the art of fiends devise such grief 

As ruined souls have never known, till ye 

Sink to the lowest vault and torture-house 

Gehenna holds. Your cursed hearts are stone, 

But in the fury of the nether fires 

They'll crack at last, and tear your bosoms 

out, 
And leave you empty for the undying worm 
To fret and gnaw through all eternity. 
'Tis I that must be damned upon this earth 
While my betrayal lives in memory 
Misunderstood of ages ; yet an hour 
Doth lie in time when the Eternal Hand 
Shall seal forgiveness. Now I go my way, 
To quit me of this dust men Judas call, 
And take my lowly, penitential place 
Before the portal of that secret State, 
Where ghosts of men abide the will of God. 
Thither I hasten, that when Jesus comes, 



THE ISCARIOT 55 

The foremost of all spirits waiting him, 
With forehead on the earth, the Iscariot kneels. 
So shall he, reading in the bloody book 
Of my sore, wounded soul, lift up his voice 
And pardon , 



{Jvdas goes out. Caiaphas and the rest j-ise. There is a i^rcal 
expiration of breath and rustle of garments. Clear cold light has 
* filled the sky, and the stars are no more seen, /enisalem lies 
black against the whiteness of the dawn.) 



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